The Summer After
by Katie1995
Summary: One-Shot! Haymitch has never really found the opportunity to be happy, but after the birth of his daughter, Haymitch is left feeling as if he finally belongs somewhere with someone and something to live for once more, Maysilee's memory still not diminished from his mind. Please R&R! *Scenes of Child Birth, mild.*
1. The Summer After

**A/N - (I do not own **_**The Hunger Games**_** or the characters in any ways; all rights are reserved to Suzanne Collins)**

**The Summer After**

Haymitch paced outside the private hospital room door. He could hear the cries of pain emitting from Effie now and then and it made him wince every time, even though it had already been around four hours. The nurses had told him to wait outside, and although he opposed the idea and tried to follow Effie in, he was denied access by the senior doctor, who unlike the nurses, threatened to throw him out if he didn't abide by the rules or instructions.

Growing tired of pacing and realising it would get him nowhere, Haymitch sat down next to the closed door on the beige coloured chair. His hands found the armrests and every time Effie cried out, Haymitch gripped the armrests in response, almost as if he could feel Effie's pain.

_Not long now, darling, _he thought, his mind frantic. _Not long at all._

He kept repeating that sentence in his head, believing that if he kept repeating it over and over, Effie would be able to hear him, but of course, that was a stupid idea. The clock on the wall opposite him continued its annoying chatter as it tick-tocked past one 1:27am. He watched the seconds hand intently, wishing it to go quicker, but as one hour became two, exhaustion overcame him and he began to drift into a troubled sleep.

"Mr. Abernathy?" There was no response and so the nurse repeated herself louder this time, shaking his arm lightly. "Mr. Abernathy."

Haymitch woke with a start, looking to pull out the knife he always used to have kept in the back of his belt, but he realised suddenly, that ever since Effie and he had become partners, that he didn't carry it around anymore. Effie had encouraged him to stop, assured him no-one would hurt him, and with his support, he stopped.

He wished he could give his support to Effie now, who from the sound of it, was still in labour.

"What do you want?" Haymitch asked, his voice gruff and still unimpressed from the way he had been treated earlier.

"Your wife wants you," the nurse replied, her eyes as unwelcome as his.

"I'm allowed in?" The question was tinted with sarcasm and the nurse sighed, unimpressed with his attitude towards her.

Crossing her arms over her chest, she gave Haymitch a quick smile, remembering that how rude the patient may be, she must always act politely and civilly. "Yes you are, but I'm going to ask you to put these on first." She held out blue coloured scrubs and Haymitch guffawed.

"What do I need them for?"

"For sterility and cleanliness, Mr. Abernathy," replied the nurse, her eyes as tired as his and her hair slightly dishevelled. "We don't want to risk infection now, do we?"

Haymitch couldn't quite make out if she was indirectly offending him, or really being serious. So with a sigh, Haymitch snatched the ridiculous scrubs out of her hand and hastily place the top over his head and pulled the bottoms over his grey trousers.

He knew he looked ridiculous, but Effie was far more important than looking good, though he momentarily paused, Effie's fascination with looking good wherever she went making him chuckle slightly. _She's probably looking a million dollars still_, Haymitch thought, a smile turning his lips up.

"Mr. Abernathy?" The nurse's voice reminded him what he was doing and he allowed her to follow into the room which he was barred from entering earlier.

Effie was propped up against pillows, her hair a mess and tangled in sweat on her forehead. Her hands were in fists upon the white covers of her hospital bed as she clutched to them to control each wave of pain. Her eyes were scrunched tightly closed and it hurt him he couldn't ease the pain she felt. Fine layers of sweat shone briefly under the bright, white hospital lights.

"Effie," Haymitch whispered, his voice shaky through being overcome by emotion. He took tentative steps towards her, his breathing heavy.

Effie, suddenly comforted by the familiar voice smiled slightly, opening her eyes to see Haymitch making his way towards her. "Haymitch," she breathed, although another contraction caught her short and she caught her breath suddenly, her hand searching for Haymitch's. Taking her hand in his, Haymitch held it tightly – almost as if he was trying to convey all the love he held for her in that one simple gesture.

She squeezed his hand extremely tightly although Haymitch didn't mind. He'd suffered much worse pain than that of a woman in labour.

"Can't you give her something?" Haymitch asked, now irate. "Some pain relief or something?"

The doctor looked over to Haymitch from the opposite side of Effie, his glasses half way down his nose and his black hair neatly combed back. "It's better, Mr. Abernathy, to relent giving your wife pain relief until it's absolutely necessary." He paused, flicking his report over, his eyes flying over it before he continued, "It also causes less complications."

"And if she needs it?"

The doctor sighed, closing his eyes in frustration. The man didn't know anything, and like husbands before him, the doctor had to remind Haymitch he knew what he was doing. "In that case pain relief will be given, but if she asks for it too late, then it can't be administrated."

Effie's hand relaxed around Haymitch's and she breathed out slowly through her mouth. "I'm okay," she stated, her voice hoarse. Haymitch cocked an eyebrow, unconvinced, which made a smile appear of Effie's worn face. "Really, Haymitch, I can do this."

Haymitch brushed a tendril of hair out of her face, kissing her forehead lightly. "I believe you."

It was another three hours before any progress had been made, and through every contraction, Haymitch was made sure to feel the pain. He stood corrected, he'd never felt as much pain as he did now from just the squeezing of his hand. He highly doubted that after today he would be able to use his right left hand ever again.

"Okay, Mrs. Abernathy," the doctor said gently while pulling two white latex medical gloves. "When the next contraction arises I need you to push for me, okay?" His question was dripping with authority but had subtle undertones of understanding. "I know you're tired and you're doing so well, but I need you to push, really push."

Effie was tired, there was no denying. Her head was rested back against the pillows and her breathing came in short puffs as she tried to organise herself. "I don't think I can do this, Haymitch."

Haymitch's heart broke for her. "Of course you can, darling," he responded, his spare hand stroking her cheek. "You can do anything" – he paused before continuing – "You've been through much worse." His words were about last summer when Effie had been tortured and beaten by the Capitol forces that kept her captive, and he truly believed that if she survived that so strongly, she could do this.

Effie's head popped up suddenly and her hand, again, tightly curled around Haymitch's as she moaned, her spine curling forwards so she was now leaning forwards, her other hand fisting the sheets under her. "That's is, darling," Haymitch whispered.

"Push for me, Effie," the doctor reminded.

The nurses held Effie's legs for her as Haymitch urged her on. He could tell she was going through the most painful part of her birthing experience. Her mouth twisted in vain not to scream.

"Ten seconds, Effie, push for ten seconds for me, okay." Effie nodded under the strain her body was put through and Haymitch found he was holding his breath for her.

Exhausted, Effie leaned back against the mountain of white pillows, her breathing coming in harsh intervals now. "Come on, darling, you're doing so well," Haymitch murmured as he kissed her temple. "Not long now and you'll be able to hold our child."

The thought spurred Effie on somewhat and so when the next contraction came to pass, she found renewed strength, pushing as hard as she could until she felt the head crowning, finally.

"That's it, Effie," Haymitch exclaimed, his feelings alien to him. "Keep going."

And Effie was trying so hard but it hurt so much and she felt as if she was going to pass out through the pressure being put on her. "I can see the head, Effie," one of the nurses called out, a smile on her lips. "You're nearly there."

Leaning forwards again, Haymitch rubbed Effie's back as she shouted out suddenly. "It's okay darling, you're doing swell," came Haymitch's response.

With one final push, Effie relaxed back as she felt new life slip between her legs and into the midwife's awaiting hands. A cry sounded out throughout the room and Haymitch found the tears were automatic. "Effie," he whispered, "you did it!"

Effie smiled, but her eyes were still closed as she tried to control her frantic breathing. "I know," she answered, her voice a little weak, but shaky as she realised that her baby awaited her.

"Mr. Abernathy, would you like to cut the umbilical cord?" Haymitch looked up from Effie's tired face, tears streaming down his cheek. He nodded at the midwife, unable to respond with words.

It was the proudest moment of his life as Haymitch cut the umbilical cord. With the baby now free, it was immediately wrapped in soft, warm blankets, a cotton hat put over its head and passed to Effie who had pushed herself up, her arms ready to receive the bundle she had spent nearly eight hours in waiting to meet.

"It's a girl," one of the nurses said before leaving to give Effie and Haymitch some privacy.

And she was beautiful. Her eyes mouth was open in a perfect 'o' shape as she yawned revealing her pink gums. Her hair, Haymitch saw before the hat was placed over her small head was blonde like Effie's, but her eyes, their daughter had Haymitch's eyes.

"I can't believe she's ours," Effie whispered, her voice a welcome factor through his utter loss of words.

Clearing his throat, he agreed, "She's beautiful, Effie, and guess what?"

Effie's eyes wandered from her baby's face to find Haymitch's grey Seam eyes. "What?" she asked, a soft smile on her rose-bud coloured lips.

"She's all ours," Haymitch breathed proudly.

Admiring her once more, Effie continued. "She has your eyes."

Haymitch stroked the babe's cheek with a finger, frightened to break the small bundle in his wife's arms. "I was wishing she'd have your eyes," he admitted.

Effie shook her head. "No," she countered, "I believe your eyes are beautiful, Haymitch, I'm glad she's inherited them."

"Truthfully?" Haymitch pondered, his eyes taking in every feature of his daughter's face.

"Truthfully," Effie reinforced.

Effie took a moment to breast feed the new addition to the family. Haymitch could see she was nervous – she always was with new things, but it turned out that Effie was a natural at it. She was through everything, meant to be a mother.

"What should we call her?" Haymitch's voice was growing sleepy, but he battled to stay awake.

Effie, more so tired than her husband replied, softly, "how about Maysilee?"

Suddenly choked up, Haymitch found his voice again, albeit difficultly. "Maysilee," he agreed, his voice cracking. "I like it, I like it a lot."

"I knew you would," Effie whispered, her eyelids drooping closed.

And without noise, Haymitch kissed his wife's forehead softly, taking the sleeping baby into his arms and placing her in the crib next to the bed.

"Goodnight, Maysilee," Haymitch spoke softly, "Don't let the bed bugs bite."

Taking his place next to Effie once more, Haymitch joined his family in a peaceful slumber where he finally felt happy once more.

**A/N – Can I just repeat how much I love this ship? Oh, Suzanne, how I wish you'd made these characters a couple! There are so many possible stories for the two of them.**

**If you enjoyed this, Please Review!**

**Thanks, Katie1995. :)**


	2. Mamma

**A/N – (I do not own **_**The Hunger Games **_**or the characters in anyway; all rights are reserved to Suzanne Collins.)**

**Mama**

Effie sat down opposite her ten month old baby girl, placing a bib around her front. With her hair tied back messily and her fingers clutching a bowl and baby food, which to Haymitch, looked more like orange sick than carrot purée, Effie began scooping up the first spoon full. He was sure that if Maysilee didn't like it then it most definitely tasted like sick too.

"You're really going to feed her _that_?" Haymitch asked, disdain evident in his tone.

Effie huffed, looking over to her husband and smiling, although it appeared tired. "Haymitch, darling, I've also got some sliced apple for her," she replied, her smile widened and a small chuckle followed. Haymitch folded his arms and placed them on top of the table. Effie's eyes followed his action and immediately she took on her reprimanding tone, "What have I told you, Haymitch? No elbows on the dining table, it's bad manners."

Leaning back against the chair he was sat upon, Haymitch snorted, but not spitefully. "I'm sorry, Sweetheart, but I thought after living in District 12 for so long, your annoying" – Effie's eyes became slits and Haymitch continued hastily, recovering his words – "and so loveable traits, would have somewhat softened."

Rolling her eyes, Effie made an effort in trying to pretend the spoon was a train. "Here comes the train!" Effie cooed enthusiastically, her voice in that ridiculous but cute sing-song voice as she brought the green spoon closer to Maysilee's mouth.

Haymitch nearly choked on his own laughter as his daughter adamantly closed her mouth, shaking her head frantically, a thin line replacing her soft baby lips. "Looks like she gets her attitude from you," Haymitch joked, tears swimming in his eyes, "Especially her stubbornness."

Effie glowered at her husband, but tried again, this time as an aeroplane. "Here comes the aeroplane!" Effie exclaimed, again, in that cheery voice of hers, reserved only for her daughter. "We need to make sure it doesn't crash! Be a good girl for mamma and eat it!" The spoon once again got closer to her infant's mouth and this time her daughter welcomed the carrot purée, much to Effie's satisfaction.

"You were saying?" Effie said, watching as her daughter licked the orange gunk from around her small mouth.

Haymitch grunted, making sure to sound unimpressed. "I could do that easily," he stated, his voice confident, ready for Effie's response.

"You think so?" She said, cocking an eyebrow. "Well then, victor of the second quarter quell, I'd like to see you try."

The mention of his Hunger Games had caused him to become slightly irate with his wife, but even more so determined in proving himself right. Swapping seats with Effie, Haymitch took the green spoon from her, placing it down on the table beside him, swapping the disgusting baby food for the previous eight apple sliced now puréed down to resemble more of a blob of apple sauce than actual solids.

"She'll like these more," Haymitch muttered, although Effie was still unconvinced.

Sighing, she crossed her legs. "How did I ever not know?" she asked, her voice slightly patronising and tainted in sarcasm.

As Haymitch cleaned the orange tinted green spoon, he replaced the orange goo with the apple sauce type food. Oddly confident, he began the aeroplane journey again. "Here's comes the plane, Maysilee. Are you going to be a good girl for daddy and let him land safely?" He knew h sounded ridiculous, but hey, if it worked, he'd do anything.

But, unlike the hope he held at the start of this supposedly 'easy' task, Maysilee crushed it and like before, she automatically closed her mouth, her small curls bouncing from side to side as she refused.

"Easy?" Effie laughed, her reward the frustrated look on Haymitch's face. "Really, Haymitch, I beg to differ."

Muttering under his breath, he tried again, but Maysilee refused, her little hands banging on the tray in front of her as she exclaimed, "Mamma!" in a very impatient tone.

Effie stopped laughing and Haymitch nearly dropped the spoon. Did their daughter really just say her fist word? Effie, now crouching down next to Haymitch had never felt prouder than at that moment. Haymitch was completely and utterly spellbound.

"Mamma!" repeated the baby girl, her small fists bashing the tray again.

"Okay," Effie assured her daughter, taking the spoon from Haymitch's unprepared hand while scooting him off the kitchen chair. "Mamma's back."

The ten month old smiled gleefully as her 'mamma' took her place before her yet again. "Are you going to eat properly for me now?" Effie asked, although she knew there would be no response. Scooping the apple on to the spoon again, Effie brought it to her daughter's mouth where she took it quite happily.

"Fine," Haymitch grumbled, although he was still overjoyed with his daughter overcoming one of her biggest development milestone. "I guess you are better than I am."

Not missing a beat, Effie replied, "I always knew that."

Haymitch chuckled, running a hand through his hair. Yes, their Maysilee was definitely like her mother.

**A/N – I wasn't planning on making this longer than a one-shot, but this may be around five chapters long because of one lovely review that asked to see more. I'm happy I did continue actually, because there are so many possibilities that this storyline offers.**

**Hayffie, FTW! *Cough... cough.***

**Anyways, if you enjoyed this chapter, Please Review! (Sorry it's quite short!)**

**Thanks, Katie1995. :) **

**A/N(2) - Sorry if some of the information is incorrect, for example, Maysilee saying her first word. I did some research and it mostly consisted of people's children speaking their fist word at a year old/12 months old. I know it varies, but 'babbling' is also common at what I found while researching, to be '8-10 months old.' So, sorry if some of my writing is misguided or incorrect. **

**Katie1995. :)**


	3. Stained Pasts

**(A/N - I do not own The Hunger Games or the characters in any way; all rights are reserved to Suzanne Collins)**

**Stained Pasts**

Maysilee had soon grown into a beautiful young woman, much to her parents' dismay. Effie could hardly believe her daughter was turning sixteen in a couple of weeks, but despite missing the days where she could roll around on the floor and play with her daughter, Effie was still taken aback with just how well her and Haymitch had raised their child; she was always plight and had impeccable manners – like Haymitch reminded Effie, their Maysilee was exactly like her mother.

There was, though, just one thing that Effie and Haymitch had not told their daughter, had not had the bravery or the nerve to speak about to or around her. Of course, the two did have their heated debates when their daughter was out of the house. Debates about what was the right time to tell her or whether there was never a right time to tell their daughter about their stained pasts. So, in an effort to come to a conclusion and compromise, Effie agreed with Haymitch to tell Maysilee about their hidden pasts when she turned eighteen.

Only, today they weren't expecting it to change so dramatically.

"She should be home soon," Haymitch sighed, his face obstructed by the newspaper he held up in front of him.

Effie drew back the blinds slightly to get a better view out of the window and down the street to where her daughter always walked up on her way home from school. Sighing, she perched on the windowsill, her hand clasping together on her lap and her shoulder replacing the hand that had previously held the blinds back. "I know, I should really be getting tea ready," Effie replied.

Haymitch replaced his paper down on the coffee table in front of him and leant forwards. He could read Effie like a book – he always had been able to from when they first met. She clasped her hands together when she was nervous about something.

"Effie, we agreed to tell her when she was eighteen, stop thinking about the past."

Effie looked back over her shoulder to meet Haymitch's eyes with her own. She smiled, but it was false. "I just can't help imagining all the things I put those families through, Haymitch," she admitted, her voice quiet. "Here I am waiting for my daughter to come back home, like so many mothers did before me, and yet I was the cause of those mothers never getting to see their children come home again."

Haymitch sighed, stood up and walked over to his wife, placing to tender hands on her drooped shoulders. "It was never your fault, Effie. It was your job, it was The Capitol, it was nothing other than what society expected of you."

His words held some truth, but it didn't make her feel any better. "Thanks but no thanks, Haymitch," Effie retorted, sadly.

A mad rapping sounded on the front door and Haymitch placed a quick kiss on Effie's head before answering the door to none other than his Maysilee. "How was school?" he asked as Maysilee followed her father into the living room, dropping her school bag by the stairs.

Maysilee threw herself onto the sofa and Effie smiled at the arrival, however, Maysilee didn't return the smile. Effie frowned, usually Maysilee didn't act like this. What had gotten into her?

Deciding to break the fallen silence, Effie spoke. "How was your day, darling?"

Maysilee stole a look at her mother, drawing in a breath before answering, "The usual."

Effie's frown deepened because she knew her daughter was lying. "Really?" Effie replied, moving from the window to the arm chair. "Because you seem to be upset about something," Effie finished, softly.

Maysilee sighed and folded her arms over her chest, staring now, up at the ceiling. "We learnt about something called The Hunger Games today," Maysilee finally said, her eyes still concentrated on the white, bumpy ceiling.

Haymitch threw a look in Effie's direction, his face as pale as Effie's used to be when she caked herself in the white powder she used to wear.

"The Hunger Games?" Effie whispered, trying extremely hard now to not sound too upset or surprised about the sudden topic.

It was quiet for a long time and tension rolled easily through the room, Effie and Haymitch managing to continuously steal glances at each other every now and then. Finally, as the tension reached its peak, Maysilee shattered it.

"How could you do it?" Her question was thrown at her mother and Effie dropped her head suddenly knowing full well what her daughter's words were about.

Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, Effie finally interlinked her fingers together, after smoothing her skirt out, and placed her hands on her lap her eyes still refusing to meet the identical ones of her daughter's. "It's not something I'm proud of," Effie began, but her daughter intercepted.

"So? How does that excuse you from what you did, from what you agreed to do?"

Effie's breathing came hard to her and Haymitch glanced in her direction, caught between the two most important women in his life. "Maysilee," Haymitch began.

"No, dad!" Maysilee exclaimed, throwing daggers at her father. "Tell me mom, how does that excuse you?"

Effie cleared her throat before answering. "It doesn't."

There was a fleeting moment of silence before either person decided to speak again. "Maysilee, I am not proud of my past – I am not proud of what I did."

"Then why, mother, did you do it? Why didn't you tell me? I was the laughing stock of the _entire _school today. It was utterly degrading."

Effie ran a hand through her greying blonde hair, her eyes now traced on her daughter. "I wasn't ready to accept the possibility of you hating me so much," she whispered.

Maysilee stopped for a minute, her mother's words cutting her. She had really become the lowest of the low today, but she needed, it seemed, to justify her cruel, harsh words. "Did you enjoy calling those kids to their death sentences? Felt lucky did you when Katniss and Peeta had won?"

Effie hissed and Haymitch's voice became low in warning, almost resembling the growling of a dog. "You have no idea, Maysilee," Effie hit back, her voice struggling to stay even. "I went through so much to get where I am today."

"Then tell me, why did you do it?"

Effie rose to her feet and took her place back by the window, her hands resting extremely tightly on the windowsill. "You're lucky," came her response to her daughter's question. "Lucky you have us as your parents, lucky you weren't born in that crazed city they called The Capitol, lucky you were born into a free society." Effie sighed and she closed her eyes, concentrating on what she was trying to say. "I'm not pushing you into getting a good job, doing what others expect from you, Maysilee, you're free to do as you wish!"

Effie stopped talking suddenly as her voice broke. Haymitch wanted to comfort her, but he knew she could never accept his words in this situation.

"My mother, Maysilee, was a woman who wanted her daughter to have high standards, she always – when we would watch the Hunger Games on television, want me to be like those escorts they saw every year, the people who got into high places, who became acquainted with people in power, people with money. It doesn't justify me, Maysilee, not by a long shot, but you must understand how much I didn't want to let my parents down, to be seen as a failure in their eyes. Surely you don't want to feel a failure in my eyes?"

Effie let herself turn around to face her daughter, tears swimming in her eyes, yet to be shed. "No," Maysilee replied.

"I saw them die each year, Maysilee. I picked their names from those glass bowls and I stayed with them, pretended that everything was fine as I ripped them away from their families. God, it killed me, Maysilee. Every year I saw their blood being spilt and heard their mothers' cries echoing through the town square. It was something I hoped you would never have to learn about, something you would never have to relate to yourself."

Maysilee went to go over to her mother, but Haymitch placed a hand on her arm shaking his head slightly. "Mom," Maysilee began, her eyes glued to her mother's figure.

Effie's tears began steadily down her cheeks. "And through everything I've done, President Snow got to me too. He made me do things I will never, ever be able to tell you about, Maysilee." Effie breathed out although she found little comfort. "Although I was maybe the one person to cause so much pain, I can at least say I helped end it; all I can say, all I can leave you with is that I'm glad you never had to grow up through what I did."Effie's voice was low, but one final though hurt her more, the thought that now she would be seen as a disgrace in her own daughter's eyes. "But we'll never forget!" Effie exclaimed, her eyes red. "We'll never forget the reapings or The Hunger Games and I'll always be a bad person in your eyes."

Maysilee watched as her mother walked out of the room, listening to her uneven footsteps up the stairs and the slamming of the door as she closed herself in her room.

There was a long silence before Haymitch chose to break it; the sound of his wife's muffled cries hurting him more than he ever imagined they would. "Maysilee, you must understand your mother had no choice."

Maysilee nodded, although she seemed to have not heard anything her father had just said. "You had a choice."

It was then Haymitch understood Maysilee hadn't learnt about her father's time as a tribute in the games her mother was part of, too. "Maysilee, there are some things in this world you need to fully understand before you make accusations."

Maysilee's eyes found the grey eyes of her father and a single tear fell down her cheek, the blonde hair so like her mother's falling in front of her left eye. "Tell mom I still love her."

Haymitch smiled softly, his heart breaking for his child's naivety. "She knows you do."

Maysilee threw her arms around her father, his beard tickling her cheek as he kissed her softly. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

And although Maysilee knew her anger was misdirected, she still knew she'd caused a great amount of pain for her mother which she never wanted to do.

Haymitch knew what Maysilee was feeling – she was confused, angry and scared, probably even feeling betrayed, but he knew in time she would truly understand what her parents had to go through for her today.

"She could never be angry with you," Haymitch assured, quietly, his daughter's arms tightening around his body as she clutched him closer.

**A/N – Sorry for the sudden huge age gap/jump... I just wanted to keep the ball rolling. I might add one final chapter to this, but I don't know... What do you think?**

**Anyways, review are always appreciated, so if you have time, please drop me a review, I love hearing you feedback.**

**Thanks, Katie1995 :)**


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